Chapter 7 - Dominic
I finish sanding the last of the chairs and stand it up next to the table. All I need to do now is stain and finish them, and then I’ll be done with my last job for the foreseeable future.
I almost regret telling Ethan that I’d see him at Harold’s. As I look at the table and chairs, I take a deep breath and shake my head. Maybe it’ll be good to get out of this workshop. I can have a beer with my brother. I can always leave if I don’t want to be there.
After a quick shower, I pull on my jeans a flannel shirt. I comb my hair with my fingers and pull on a thin jacket before jumping into my truck. It bounces down the gravel road until I turn down Main Street towards the other end of town.
The lights are on at Harold’s Pub, and there are cars lined up down the block. People come here from miles around on Friday nights – and that’s why I usually avoid it.
Tonight, though, the distraction will be welcome. Maybe, if there are enough people and the noise is loud enough, it’ll drown out all the thoughts running through my mind.
I pull the truck up past the pub and hop out, kicking the door closed behind me. The air is cold, and my damp hair starts to feel frosty against my head. I blow out the air from my lungs and turn towards the pub. I’m so focused on getting inside that I don’t see Mara McCoy until we’re almost crashing into each other as we both reach for the door.
“Sorry!” she says, glancing up at me.
“S’okay,” I grunt. She’s right beside me, and the faint floral smell of her perfume fills my nose. Her eyes are bright blue and her nose is sprinkled with freckles. She smiles at me shyly.
“Hey,” she says. It comes out as a breathy whisper, and her eyes drop down.
“Hey,” I respond. My throat feels tight, and I’m not sure why. She reaches up to tuck a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear before glancing up at me.
“You going to Harold’s?” she asks, nodding towards the door. Her cheeks start flushing and she lets out a laugh. “Stupid question. Sorry. I just… I didn’t know you came here.”
“I don’t,” I grunt. “Usually.”
She nods once, and I reach towards the door. The noise inside the pub sounds too loud already, but I watch Mara walk in and I follow her anyway. The two of us stand at the bar, and I steal a glance towards her. It’s been a few years since I saw her, and I forgot how pretty she is. Did she change her hair? Maybe I just always remembered her as the 14 year-old girl that was dating my brother.
She’s so.. I don’t know… Womanly?
She smiles at Harold behind the bar and leans over to order herself a drink. She nods towards me and Harold nods back. Before I know it, a beer appears in front of me and Mara touches her glass to mine.
“I come in peace,” she says with a grin. I can’t help smiling back at her and nodding my chin as I take a sip.
“Welcome back,” I respond. “Next one’s on me.”
Her face breaks into a smile and white heat runs down my spine to the pit of my stomach.
“I’ll hold you to that, Dominic Clarke.”
The way she says my name sends another thrill through my stomach. She grins again and slips away towards a group of girls before I can answer. I watch her walk away until she’s with the other girls, hugging them and laughing. Two of them – the Wilson sisters – look over at me and say something to her. I turn my back on the group and bury my face in my beer before Mara glances up at me.
I can imagine what they’re saying. They’re probably talking about how unusual it is to see me here. How business must be especially bad if I’m in for a drink. Maybe they’re talking about the fire… Again. A year later, and it seems to still be the best topic of conversation whenever I’m around.
I sigh and slide onto a bar stool. It groans under my weight and I shake my head. I wonder if any furniture is made for someone my size. Everywhere I go, I tower over everyone. I’ve gotten very well acquainted with the tops of people’s heads. I hardly fit through doorways, and I’m constantly afraid of breaking chairs.
Maybe that’s why I became a furniture maker, I think as I take another sip. It had nothing to do with my father – I just wanted things I could sit on without fear of collapse.
A smile is forming on my lips – right up until my brother claps me on the back. My beer sloshes in the glass and Ethan laughs.
“You made it! When you said you were coming down, I didn’t quite believe you.”
I grunt in response and take another drink. Ethan waves Harold down and starts chatting to him. They talk about the weather, about the Park – about things I wouldn’t even notice. Sometimes I wonder how Ethan and I are related. Harold walks away and Ethan turns towards me, leaning casually against the bar. His eyes sweep across the small bar and he grins.
“Mara McCoy is here,” he says, nodding his head towards the group of girls.
“I know,” I say, staring at the beer she bought me. “I saw her when I walked in.”
“She looks good,” he says.
“Does she?” I ask, taking another sip of beer. I put the glass down and turn towards her. She glances up at me and the corner of her lip lifts up. My heart jumps in my chest and my cock suddenly feels heavy. Her eyes flick back to one of the Wilson sisters and I turn back to my beer.
Ethan finds someone else to talk to and I sit on my own until my beer is empty and Harold puts a fresh one in front of me. I’m staring at the golden liquid, trying to decide if the noise and people are worth the distraction, when I feel a delicate hand on my arm.
I jump, looking up to see Mara staring at me with those piercing blue eyes of hers. Her pink lips curl into a smile, and I can’t help licking my lips. Her eyes flick down and my cock twitches between my legs again.
That beer has gone straight to my head.
She slides onto the bar stool beside me and leans her head on her fist. She smiles at me again.
“So,” she says. “Dominic Clarke.”
There she goes, saying my name like that again. I look at her, waiting for her to continue. Harold puts a beer in front of her but she ignores it, keeping her eyes glued on me instead.
“It’s good to see you,” she says. Her words surprise me, so I lift my beer to my lips and take a drink, nodding as I put it back down.
“It is?”
“It is,” she says. Her voice is soft, and I have to strain my ears to hear her over the din in the pub. I flick my eyes over to her and nod, surprised to see how sincere she looks. She takes a deep breath and sighs before standing up again.
I’m still scrambling for something to say when she grabs her beer. She puts her hand on my arm again and gives it a light squeeze before slipping away. I look up at the taps of beer in front of me, feeling the emptiness where she was a moment ago. My arm is burning where her fingers were, and the smell of her perfume is still lingering around me. I force myself to keep my face forward, even though every part of me is screaming to turn around.
My heart is thumping and my whole body is tense. It’s not until Ethan appears beside me and puts his hand on my shoulder that I start to relax again. He squeezes my shoulder and laughs.
“What was all that about?”
“All what?” I ask, glancing at him.
“You and Mara,” he says. I can hear the grin in his voice as I turn back to my beer. “You fraternizing with the enemy?”
“She’s not the enemy,” I snap. Ethan throws his hands up and laughs. I drain the rest of my beer and stand up, brushing my jacket down. I nod to my brother. “See you later.”
“Later,” he says. There’s still a grin in his voice and his eyes are sparkling with mischief. It annoys me, but I don’t know why – and I don’t know how to respond. All I do is spin around and walk straight out the door. When the cool air fills my lungs and the sounds of the pub are muted behind the door, I can finally breathe easy again. I glance behind me, still feeling the heat of Mara’s gaze.
I shake my head and stalk towards my truck. I shouldn’t have come out tonight. I don’t understand people, and I usually don’t like them. I have no idea what that was about. The last thing I want to do is start people talking about the Clarkes and the McCoys all over again.
I just want to be left alone.